


more than a toy

by hak



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Crushes, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, implied kaemaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hak/pseuds/hak
Summary: He wanted to be something special.OR Saihara assumes that Ouma and Momota are a thing before confirming the facts.





	more than a toy

Saihara never took himself for the jealous type. He _wasn’t_. But as if to contradict him, another pang hit his chest as he watched Momota ruffle Ouma’s hair from across the library.

Akamatsu curiously peeked out from beside him, books in her arms. “Oh, Momota-kun and Ouma-kun. Aren’t you going to say hi to them?”

Saihara turned away, rubbing a hand on his neck nervously. “I don’t want to accidentally interrupt them… They seem to be talking about something.”

“Jeez, Saihara-kun!” Akamatsu said, frowning. “If you don’t confess already, I’m tempted to do it for you!”

Saihara chuckled apologetically. The threat gave him a bit of a scare in the past, but he knew that Akamatsu wouldn’t purposefully do something against his will. Peeking out from behind the shelves again, his eyes zeroed in on Ouma who was laughing behind a loose fist at whatever Momota was saying, violet locks bouncing with every breath. He looked so fittingly small next to Momota. The height difference would be an aspect on a list of their couple charms. The close hues of their colors, their playful banter, and their opposite yet similar personalities, too—but what did _he_ have with Ouma?

Recently, he noticed that Ouma’s interest had shifted from him to Momota. The thought alone had been disheartening, but the actual experience was more than he’d imagined. It made him chafe why he hadn’t appreciated Ouma back when the shorter was always flitting at his side. He knew that he shouldn’t take it to heart because everyone was aware of Ouma’s habit of jumping from “plaything” to “plaything.” Iruma, Kiibo, Gonta, and Tojo were also past victims, but even after Ouma ditched them for the next, he didn’t entirely stop talking to them. He still talked to Saihara, too, but the detective just didn’t like being labeled as another one of Ouma’s old toys.

He wanted to be something special.

“Oh, they’re leaving now,” Akamatsu commented. As she said, the duo was heading to the exit. Saihara eyes tailed the close proximity between them as they disappeared through the door. Akamatsu then turned to Saihara, opening her mouth to give him another mini lecture, but as if sensing his melancholy, her expression softened. “You really like Ouma-kun, huh?”

“Yeah,” was Saihara’s simple reply, almost too soft to hear, but Akamatsu nodded with a sympathetic smile.

“Come on! It’s still too early to lose hope. Those two only started talking three days ago, so you just need to snatch him back!”

Saihara looked up with bewilderment. “Huh? But how? I couldn’t even keep him when he still had an ounce of interest in me. I’m not sure if I can compete against Momota-kun. He’s easy-going and fun to be around. Compared to him, I’m…”

“That’s nonsense!” Akamatsu said, firm in her tone. “You’re kind, forgiving, and patient with everyone despite how difficult they can be sometimes. Everyone recognizes your good points. And also, didn’t you notice that Ouma stayed with you longer than he had with Gonta-kun, Iruma-san, and the rest of them?”

“...Well, I doubt that he times his stays, so it’d make sense that some are longer than others?”

“And that’s a bad way of thinking! I really believe that you’re more to Ouma-kun than you think! And even if it doesn’t go well, you’ll at least have gotten it off your chest, right?”

Saihara managed a small smile, feeling his tension begin to dissolve. His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah… you’re right. Thank you, Akamatsu-san, for always supporting me.”

She smiled back, warm and bright like the sun. “Of course. I’m going to check these books out now; Harukawa-san is waiting for me in the dorms. Knock on her door if you need anything, Saihara-kun. I believe in you!”

“Okay,” Saihara said, nodding.

While Akamatsu proceeded to the front counter, Saihara began browsing through the shelves. He settled in the mystery fiction section, pointer finger drifting across the spines of the books as he skimmed over the titles.

From between the cracks of the books, he saw Akamatsu-san open the sliding door to leave, but just as she was about to take a step out, she jumped. Saihara’s finger fell, and he whipped his head to the exit, squinting to see as much as he could. Akamatsu seemed to be okay, but she was paused at the doorway. Her fingers curled around her books, and she looked left and right before quickly walking out, closing the doors a little more hastily than probably necessary.

Saihara blinked, dumbfounded at what just happened.

* * *

He decided to let go of the occurrence, but at the same time, the detective part of him which took up eighty percent of his brain couldn’t shake it off completely.

Akamatsu greeted him as usual the next morning, pulling a chair next to his to do their daily run of homework review. But even with textbooks and notebooks scattered before him, he couldn’t get himself to concentrate, whereas Akamatsu smoothly gave a run-through of each question. If something actually did happen, he was impressed by how well she was covering it up.

Finally, she looked at him in curiosity. “Is everything okay? You seem kind of out of it.”

“Ah, sorry!” Saihara said. He slid his pencil down to the question they were on.

Glancing at this, Akamatsu laughed. “We already went over number six. We’re on number eight now.”

Saihara felt his face heat up, and he let out a sigh. “Sorry… I guess my head just isn’t in this today.”

Akamatsu nodded in understanding. “It’s okay, the homework last night wasn’t anything super hard so we should be good. You have other things to worry about, after all.” She probably thought it was because of the Ouma situation.

He felt bad for taking advantage of her kindness like this, but he didn’t plan to ask her about the incident either, so he just hummed in appreciation.

“Aww, is my beloved Saihara-chan feeling sad today?”

Ouma suddenly popped in over Akamatsu’s shoulder. She and Saihara were startled by the additional company, but they didn’t stop Ouma as he unabashedly leaned in to take a closer look at their notebooks. “Aw, gee. Yeah, I’d be sad too if a big scary piano lady dragged me into boring talk about schoolwork every morning,” he sniggered.

“Well, sorry that we need to study in order to maintain good marks,” Akamatsu said with half-hearted exasperation.

Meanwhile, Saihara felt his face redden again, this time for a different reason. This was the first time Ouma had approached him, or rather them since Akamatsu was also here, since he began hanging out with Momota. Hearing him call him by the same endearment as before made his heart squeeze and feel a little relieved.

“Nishishi, you’re no fun, Class President-chan,” Ouma said with mirth. “See, Saihara-chan instantly looks refreshed again now that I’m here! You should learn from me.”

Akamatsu crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks. “Well, if I’m doing such a bad job, why don’t you just take him a—” A look of realization passed her face. Doing a one-eighty, she suddenly looked a lot more gleeful and amenable, tugging Saihara over by linking their arms. “Right! Why don’t you two spend some time together then?”

“Huh?! A-Akamatsu-san?” Saihara spluttered, looking from the said girl to Ouma’s growing cheshire grin.

The supreme leader tapped his chin in exaggerated consideration while humming. “Hmm, I guess I have no choice. What a handful you are, Saihara-chan~”

“A-Ah, you don’t have t—”

“Oh! I should go rehearse for my performance this weekend,” Akamatsu said, clapping her hands together. She slipped away from Saihara, and he just watched silently as she creakily pulled the chair back to its original desk, put on her backpack, dust her skirt, and smile at him from the door with a wave. “Don’t miss first period, you guys!” And she was gone.

Saihara hesitantly turned around. At the sight of Ouma’s unreadable expression, he quickly turned back, mind blank of anything intelligent to say and heart racing distractedly fast. He wasn’t sure whether it was the nerves, or if he actually just saw Ouma smiling from the corner of his eye.

Seconds passed by them, and Saihara had an inkling that Ouma wasn’t planning to say the first line either, so he furtively sucked in a breath. He whipped his head around dizzyingly fast, spitting out, “Ouma-kun.” His voice cracked, and he reddened again, but he had the resolve not to turn away. “Y… Where’s Momota-kun?”

Of the questions he could’ve asked, he wanted to lock himself in his room and scream for bringing up the astronaut. After the words left his mouth, he did his own quick survey of the room to discover that Momota wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Ouma also supported this by replying, “Who knows? Dead in a lake, doing morning training, grocery shopping in preparation for the apocalypse? Could be any of those!”

“Ah, I almost forgot that Momota-kun has morning training.”

“It’s probably why he’s so big. Too bad it doesn’t help with his mental strength.”

Saihara chuckled. “If I remember correctly, he got the third-highest score in our last exam though.”

“Jeez, Saihara-chan, we’re having a Make-Fun-of-Momota-chan session! Get with the program!” Ouma pouted at him, and Saihara laughed.

He really did like him a lot.

Ouma swiftly curved around the desk to stand next to Saihara. Before he could react, Ouma pulled at his arm, and he got a rush of deja vu from when Akamatsu tugged at his arm earlier too. At this rate, he was about to lose a limb.

“Ouma-kun?” he questioned meekly.

“Come on, class doesn’t start for another half-hour. Let’s go to the gym! We have to get you all beefed up, too!” Ouma said, as if immune to how ridiculous his own whim sounded. But like the pushover and lovestruck fool he was, Saihara let himself get pulled off his chair and out of the classroom, the spot Ouma holding tingling under his touch. As they began walking down the hallway, his subconscious dumbly wondered, _Does Ouma have a thing for muscular guys?_

They soon reached the gymnasium. They were hit with the smell of old equipment, but luckily the air inside was still fresh as it was just cleaned that morning. As to be expected, there were other students present, as well, like the Ultimate Gymnast and the Ultimate Manager from the class next door. Owari and Nidai, if he remembered correctly, who were thoroughly focused on their training. He had to take a moment to check if the serious-faced Owari was the same girl he saw in the dining hall two days ago with three chicken bones in her mouth at once. And in another corner was the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader and the Ultimate Programmer. Considering the smaller one’s talent, he was caught off-guard by her presence, but nonetheless, was impressed by the determination she seemed to be putting into her exercises. The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader watched over her, voicing words of encouragement with every successful lift of her dumbbell.

“I feel kind of out of place here,” Saihara mumbled, more to himself.

But Ouma, who still had a tight grip on his sleeve, grinned. “That’s where the training comes in!”

Saihara became nervous. “I didn’t think you were serious about that.”

“When am I not?”

He didn’t even feel like answering that question.

Scoping the gymnasium once more, Saihara felt bad about the relief in his chest at the absence of Momota. It’d be hard to face him right now, in his state.

However, that relief was short-lived because fate liked playing with Saihara, and that’s why Momota chose that moment to enter the gym right behind them. He was in a regular white tee and shorts, toweling hanging around his neck and sweat dripping from his forehead. He also looked surprised to see Ouma and Saihara, but then he grinned. “Oh, hey! What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you two here.”

“Aww, are we interrupting your training?” Ouma cooed.

“Not at all! I’m on a break from my run. Just came here to get my water bottle. Wouldn’t mind a companion or two though, so either of ya interested in joining me?” Momota said, tugging at the ends of his towel.

Eyes sparkling, Ouma intertwined his fingers behind his back and leaned in. “Oooh, getting all hot and sweaty with Momota-chan? Sounds tempting.”

“Jeez, Ouma, don’t be gross!” Momota yelped, backing away in disgust.

Ouma responded back with something else, and Momota’s face flushed, then grew agitated. His voice rose when he retorted Ouma, and their conversation continued in a flurry of emotion and wit.

Despite being right next to them, Saihara felt like he was watching a couple from the sidelines—a third wheel. It flourished an ugly, sinking feeling of insecurity in his chest, gnawing at the outer shell of his heart.

Does Ouma have more fun with Momota? he wondered. Thinking back to the scene at the library, Ouma did seem to laugh more easily around the astronaut; not his signature mischievous giggle, but one that sounded natural, bright, and was followed smoothly by another remark. The scene being played right before him was just more proof of this. He felt childish for these feelings. He wanted to laugh bitterly, but he didn’t want to show this ugly side of himself in front of his crush and a friend who’d been nothing but nice to him.

“Sorry, I feel a little sick,” Saihara said softly, forcing a smile. “Akamatsu-san was probably right. I feel out of it today.”

“What, really? Shuichi, make sure to take care of yourself, man! Can’t have my sidekick passing out on me!” Momota exclaimed.

Saihara felt guilty about receiving this kindness considering the thoughts he’d just had about Momota, but he nodded. “Ahaha… It’s not that serious. I’ll be fine.”

On the other hand, Ouma wore a skeptical expression, but he didn’t say anything. In a blink of an eye, he reverted back to his usual grin. “If you say so, Saihara-chan,” he said, with a bit of an edge. “Don’t die!”

Saihara found it hard to swallow. “Thanks. I’ll get going then. Have fun, you two.”

He tried his best to ignore the eyes on his back as he turned around and walked away.

* * *

“So you just… left?” Akamatsu said, quirking a brow.

Saihara hung his head low in shame and gave a sound of affirmation.

Looking at his state, Akamatsu couldn’t think of the right words to say. When she had seen him at the door of Harukawa’s dorm room, she was quick to seat him on the bed and force-feed him a bottle of water whilst prompting him for the story. Saihara had refused to lift his head since entering the room, but she managed to catch the concerningly grayish color of his face. After taking a couple sips, he started at the events that followed after Akamatsu left them alone along with scattered details of his feelings from before that.

Like the good friend she was, Akamatsu nodded to every word.

At her desk, Harukawa briefly looked up from her book to chime in, “So that’s why you looked like a zombie at lunch.”

Akamatsu frowned at her, and Harukawa returned to her book.

Saihara’s figure was unmoving, and Akamatsu’s hand smoothed over his back in a light feather touch in fear of possibly knocking him over. As much as she wanted to, she found it difficult to understand what he was going through, as her whole life had been centered around the piano and her first attempt at romance was an effortless success.

Harukawa tried to look indifferent, but the glances she occasionally threw over her book said otherwise.

For the rest of that evening, the two girls kept Saihara and his conflicted feelings company.

* * *

All of a sudden, Ouma began approaching Saihara regularly again, and the detective wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It happened during his morning time with Akamatsu, Ouma just peeking over his shoulder to gaze at his hand as it swept across the page; during lunch break as Ouma would skip over with his usual serving of junk food and more junk food; and after school when he’d spew crocodile tears until Saihara agreed in exasperation to accompany him wherever. If it were the him a week ago, he’d be ecstatic at Ouma’s return, but now every time he saw the shorter’s smile, an image of Momota’s followed close behind.

It’s funny how the astronaut used to be a source of comfort, but now it was hard to see him as anything but a… rival of sorts. When Saihara stood next to him, he couldn’t help comparing himself to him, checking off all that Momota had but he didn’t.

He’s sure that Momota and Ouma had realized that his excuse the other day wasn’t just because of a mere sickness. He’d been doing his best to keep his distance excluding Ouma’s attempts, and fortunately, neither had directly confronted him about it yet.

“Saihara-chan… have you been avoiding me?”

Nevermind.

It was one of those unnerving moments when Ouma looked genuinely serious. No games, no mirth. They were rare, but that’s what made them all the more frightening because Saihara wasn’t experienced in dealing with them, nor was he ready for this particular subject.

In spite of that, he knew that things couldn’t go on like this. Even if he was afraid, at this point, it was scarier for the wall between them to continue to thicken than it was for it to just shatter along with a part of him. He could glue the pieces back together with time, but without proper confrontation, the wall would eventually become too stout to break through.

He knew this. He knew it, but…

Saihara opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

He couldn’t even utter a simple reply to Ouma’s question.

Noticing this, Ouma got closer to Saihara until his hand smoothed over the detective’s desk. Saihara was grateful for the lack of an audience as his back hit the window in a cowardly gesture. The light shining in through the window bathed Ouma in its light, obscuring parts of his expression.

“Y’know, Saihara-chan, even I have feelings too,” Ouma said ruefully.

Saihara bit his lip. “Sorry,” was all he could bring himself to say. But when realizing the ambiguity of the word, he added, “—for avoiding you, I mean.” After that line, he felt himself managing to grasp at his words. He peeled his back off the window. “You were right. Yeah, I was avoiding you…”

“Did I do something?”

“No. No, you didn’t. I just…” He closed his eyes, trying to keep his voice steady. “I was just scared.” Ouma remained quiet, prompting him to continue, and Saihara smiled grimly. “I guess I should get this out then. I like you, Ouma-kun.”

The moment the words came out, it felt as if a weight were lifted off his shoulders. The source of his gloom for the past weeks was finally being shared, but as quickly as the words came out, the relief was short-lived, as well. Panic began setting in when Ouma didn’t offer any expressions or words, and those few seconds were almost enough to send Saihara into a panic, until Ouma all of a sudden… smiled?

It was sweet, but also a bit grudging, mixed with regret. “Nishishi… About time you said it, Saihara-chan.”

Before he could question him, the boy jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him out of his chair. He was pulled into an embrace, warm and loving and oh-so-satisfying. The warmth seeped through his clothing, releasing all tensions in his body like magic, and it took him a moment to register the fact that there was a live figure in his lap and a ticklish head nuzzling into his shoulder. Hesitantly, Saihara hugged back.

“But,” Saihara started, hoping that he wasn’t misunderstanding the implications of the situation, “what about Momota-kun?”

“Jeez, you still don’t get it?” Ouma pulled out of the embrace, but the tingling warmth still remained. He grinned. “It was all just my evil scheme to get you to confess first.”

At this, Saihara was dumbfounded.

“Buuut, as you can see, it didn’t end up working out too well since it only pushed you away. Bummer. I should’ve shown that my beloved Saihara-chan is fragile. He’s too much of a herbivore.”

He couldn’t deny that, and he didn’t feel like refuting Ouma either. He was filled with an immense amount of love and sentiment, and all in all, he was just happy with the turnout.

“I think your scheme still worked,” he said, smiling joyously.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a belated bday fic for my friend ray on danganronpa amino, & i just wanted to post it on here too !  
come talk 2 me on [there](http://aminoapps.com/p/e7o4le) 💖


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